Title: Is this a Dream?
Author: ismellapplesx3
Pairing: Myka/HG
Rating: K+
Spoilers: Through 3x12
Summary: Set immediately after 3x12 (Stand), what happens next. Will the watch bring Helena back?
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not for profit. All that jazz.
Author's Note: I wrote this for the last day of the "25 Days of Bering and Wells" meme over on Tumblr. Day 25 is "What you hope happens to the couple on the show." This is what I hope happens. Right now, it's just a once-shot, but I may continue later on.
Myka stared at the spot directly in front of her. Artie had used the pocket watch and the warehouse had seemingly repaired itself in an instant. The walls of the structure were in tact, the artifacts all neatly displayed on the rows and rows of shelves. Even the power was restored. But the spot in front of her remained empty. The spot where Helena had last been.
Behind her, Myka barely registered the sound of Pete excitedly questioning Artie about the watch and what had just happened. Myka ignored them. All she could do was focus on the empty spot.
Artie must have finally noticed her fixation. He hushed Pete and took a few tentative steps towards the headstrong young agent. He hadn't known if the pocket watch would work on people or not. As much as he'd struggled with the Victorian woman in the past, he'd hoped, for Myka's sake, that it would dosomething to bring Helena back. He wasn't sure what the extent of their relationship was, but any idiot could see how much Myka cared about the woman and vice versa.
"Myka?"
When the agent didn't even acknowledge him, he moved to stand in front of her, placing a hand on her arm in an uncharacteristically empathetic gesture. She flinched slightly and was brought out of her trance. The pained, hostile look in her eyes almost scared Artie, but her expression softened when she recognized his concern for her. She glanced over her shoulder at Pete and he had the same concerned expression on his face.
Not in the mood to deal with their pity at the moment, Myka took several steps back. "I just… need a moment," she said hastily before taking off towards the library. Her sanctuary.
Helena was gone. For good. She'd been gone before, sent away to her "limbo prison" as she'd once described it. But that hadn't been final. There was still hope. Hope that one day it would be different. But now there was no hope. She was gone. It was so… final.
Finally alone, Myka allowed the sobs to wrack through her body as she sank on the old, dilapidated couch that occupied the warehouse library. After a several moments, she managed to regain control of her sobs and angrily wiped her eyes. She hated crying. She hated that feeling of loosing control of her emotions and showing weakness.
Now more aware of her surroundings, Myka looked around at the familiar sight of the thousands of books, all first editions, lining the shelves of the library. Everything was exactly the same as it had been before the explosion. Even the book she'd left on the side table, bookmark in place.
Stifling another sob, Myka reached for the book, hand trembling. She lifted it and stared at the old, slightly worn book. Of course she'd been reading an H.G. Wells novel just the other day. She'd been feeling nostalgic for the British woman's stories and had picked up the book, The Time Machine, of course, to get her fix. She'd left the book, half read, on the table to come back to at a later time.
She laughed bitterly at the cruelty of her own actions now, the sound echoing loudly in the cavernous room. She opened the book to where she'd left off and began reading, tears steadily streaming down her cheeks once again.
xoxox
Pete watched as he partner and best friend hastily left the scene of the crime. Because that's what had happened here. A crime. Hi heart ached at seeing Myka in so much pain. He wished there was something he could do, but he felt utterly hopeless.
He rounded on Artie. "What do we do?" he asked.
"Inventory," Artie answered quickly. "We need to make sure everything is where it's supposed to be."
"I meant—"
"I know what you meant," Artie snapped. "There's nothing we can do about that."
"But—"
Pete's protest was cut off by the sound of a whimper. Pete turned, but saw nothing.
"Pete—"
"Shhh," Pete shushed Artie. "Do you hear that?"
"What?"
"Listen." A few seconds later, he heard it again, this time it was a strangled, almost gagging sound. Definitely female.
"The rope," Artie said, an 'ah-hah!' expression on his face. If it were a cartoon, an illuminated lightbulb would have suddenly appeared above his head, Pete mused.
"What rope?"
Artie didn't answer. Instead, he rushed for a portable container of purple neutralizing goo and took off towards a nearby aisle, Pete a few yards behind him.
Rounding a corner, Pete skidded to a halt at the sight before him. There, tangled in a large rope with a mind seemingly of its own, was the woman that had saved the warehouse and the three of them. The woman who had savedMyka. The woman who had sacrificed herself to do so. And she was quickly loosing her battle with the rope as it squeezed the life from her.
Artie quickly moved to neutralize the rope and it relinquished its hold on the woman, who fell to the ground, gasping for air as she gripped her throat. Pete knelt next to her. "HG?" he questioned.
The woman looked up, a confused expression on her face. "This can't be Heaven because I would be here with someone other than you," she croaked. "No offense meant, Pete."
Pete just laughed and pulled the woman into a tight hug for the second time that day. Again, Helena was unsure how to respond to the action and just kind of sat there, not moving, until he pulled back.
"You… died. You were dead. How?" Pete looked up at Artie in question, who shrugged.
"The pocket watch must also work on people," he mused.
"Pocket watch?" Helena croaked. Artie held up the watch and her eyes widened. Artie knew then that she was familiar with the watch and it's powers. He wanted to ask her about it, ask if she'd used it or had seen it used before. He was about to ask when she spoke again. "Myka?" Helena gasped, still trying to catch her breath.
"She took off," Pete said. "Said she needed a moment to herself. I don't know where she went. She's still somewhere in the warehouse, though. I think. It wasn't that long ago."
"The library," Helena immediately replied. "She'd go to the library. I have to find her."
Pete helped her up and she took off in the direction of the library. Artie started to go after her, but Pete held him back. "Give them a bit of time alone," he said. He also wasn't completely sure of the exact nature of the relationship between the two women, but he knew that it was best to leave them alone for now.
He was glad when Artie nodded and turned in the opposite direction, stalking off towards the main office. Pete followed him, casting a glance over his shoulder towards the library, hoping Myka was there and HG found her.
xoxox
Helena stumbled as quickly as she could towards the warehouse library which, thankfully, wasn't too far from where Pete and Artie had found her. From where they'd save her from that blasted rope.
It was very unnerving to be blown up one minute, then regaining consciousness the next while being strangled by a rope with a mind of its own. An experience she'd rather not have again any time soon.
Still a bit disoriented from being deprived of oxygen, Helena tripped over her feet as she rounded the corner and entered the "library" of the warehouse, which was actually just several very long bookshelves. It wasn't a room of its own and it was the typical "cozy" library you'd think of. The only homey touch was the couch. The couch where Myka was sitting now, a book open in her lap as her tears fell to stain the pages.
Myka, still lost in her own world of despair, hadn't noticed the commotion of Helena tripping. She didn't even flinch.
"Myka."
Myka's breath hitched in her throat. She could have sworn she'd just heard a voice say her name. No, not just a voice. Helena's voice. Her beautiful, English accented voice. But that was impossible, Myka mused. Helena was dead. The spot in front of her had remained empty. She chocked on a new round of sobs.
The sudden realization that she was no longer alone, that someone was walking quickly towards her, caused her to finally look up. She expected Pete. She knew he'd come looking for her eventually, but she'd hoped he would give her a bit more time to herself. And she intended to tell him just that.
The annoyed words died on her lips the moment she looked up to see Helena rushing towards her, stopping a mere foot in front of her. Or, at least itlooked like Helena.
"Are you a ghost?" were the first words she could form. She didn't believe in ghosts or any of that kind of thing, but working here, she wouldn't put it beyond herself to have created some sort of… artifact that made her see Helena. Made her dream of the woman. Maybe she'd fallen asleep while reading? Because Helena was dead.
"Oh, Myka," the… thing said as it fell it to its knees in front of Myka and reached out to her. Myka prepared herself to feel that same sensation when she'd touched the holographic Helena. Nothing, but still a tingle of something. She gasped in surprise when instead, she felt the heat of the hand on her damp cheek. "I'm real, darling," it, Helena, said. "I'm alive. Feel me."
Helena took both of Myka's hands in her own, pressing one to her cheek and the other over her heart. Myka chocked on another sob, this one a sob of utter relief, at the strong, steady feel of Helena's heart beating beneath the heated flesh. She grabbed the woman's shoulders and pulled her up to sit beside her on the couch as she wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace. Helena returned the hug, allowing Myka to hold her closer than she usually liked anyone to hold her. She didn't mind Myka holding her so close. She reveled in the touch, at the feel of Myka pressed against her. It wasn't a sexual thing. For the most part, that is. It was a comfort thing.
"But… you weren't there," Myka said moment later when her tears had subsided. She pulled back and looked Helena in the eye. "I looked. I started at the spot for several minutes after Artie used the watch. You weren't there."
Helena cupped Myka's cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe away the tears. "I woke up and was back at the rope," she said softly.
Myka's eyes suddenly focused on Helena's neck and she gasped as she noted the markings she found there. "Oh, Helena." She touched the marks, red and raw and sure to start bruising soon, with her fingertips.
"I'm okay," Helena assured her. "Pete and Artie… they found me and Artie neutralized the effects of the rope. Again. I'm okay. I'm here."
Myka swallowed. "You're sure you're real? I'm not dreaming?"
Helena smiled. "I'm real." And to prove her point, she did something she'd been wanting to do since she'd first met the young, headstrong agent. She cupped her cheeks and pressed her lips against hers, kissing her sweetly. Myka stiffened slightly, sending a jolt of insecurity and fear into the British woman, but then she relaxed and returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around Helena's waist and holding her close.
Helena pulled away after a moment, pressing her forehead against Myka's. "See? I'm real."
"You're real," Myka agreed, a bit breathless. "Don't ever scare me like that again," she said, eyes suddenly serious as she pulled back. "You died on me."
"I died for you," Helena corrected. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
This time, Myka kissed Helena, pulling her close and giving into the desires she'd been feeling since shortly after meeting the other woman. She'd already lost her once. She wasn't about to let her go again without acting on those desires.
That's how Pete and Artie found them just minutes later, locked in a sweet embrace. Myka would normally be embarrassed to be caught in such a position, but she couldn't bring herself to feel anything but complete joy and relief. How could she? She had her Helena back.